The Edge of Honor
by Linay
Summary: It is a time of war and revolution: feudal lords all vie for power and bloodshed stains the fields of Japan. Only a pawn in the backstage of intrigue, Kaoru cannot decide what she despises the most: her position in life or the man who will not let her be.


**The Edge of Honor**

_Author's Notes: _So, yeah. Another long day at work.

_Summary: _It is a time of war and revolution: feudal lords are all vying for a share of power and bloodshed stains the fields of Japan. Only a pawn in the backstage of intrigue, Kaoru cannot decide what she despises the most: her position in life or the man who will not let her be.

**- ( db ) -**

_Her death was not as she had imagined it would be. _

_She lay strewn and broken on the polished hardwood, her limbs twisted gracelessly. The red stain on her chest blossomed and spread slowly across the material of her fine kimono. Her silken hair was matted in blood and the strands left streaked, rust-colored patterns from when she had attempted to move towards him; she was forever moving towards him. _

_Above her, the wooden beams groaned and cracked as bright tongues of fire licked upward. Black smoke crowded her, thickening the air as the rafters began to give. Burning timber began to crash to the floor around her in fiery bursts of sparks._

_And so, the world she knew ended in flame._

**- ( db ) -**

His eyes were beautiful.

He had been waiting by the aged trunk of the cherry tree, the swaying branches above him casting dark, changing patterns in the moonlit courtyard. The pale pink blossoms fell in whispers around them as their small group stared in mute fascination as he started toward them.

It was dark. But even in the gloom, they could easily see how his unusual eyes reflected the moonlight. Even though the copper color of his hair was muted by the darkness, the strangeness of his eyes made his identity was unmistakable.

"So, you are here at last."

The man, who had been patiently waiting for this particular trio of men to arrive, stopped in his advance and bowed slightly.

"How much difference can one person make, anyway?" The man at the centre of the trio spoke, as if musing to himself, while his two companions edged closer to him with their hands on the hilts of their swords. "You and I," he said with a sigh, "Are like the _kimono_ we wear. We are disposable." He remained stiff and still, despite the sharp chill of an autumn breeze. "We shed and discard the cloth but the body, the ideal, remains intact. There are always new clothes to wear."

"Your life is required by my lord." The stranger said quietly as he sank into a crouch, his long fingers wrapping around the worn leather hilt of his long sword.

"And there will always be more men to fight for the ideal."

His guards rushed forward with loud yells, pulling their blades free from their sheaths and breaking the calm of the night. Their leader closed his eyes and tried not to listen to the sharp sounds of metal against metal and then metal against flesh. Through the soles of his feet, he felt the earth give as the bodies fell and bled out, filtering through the crushed white rock into the dark soil. He heard the assassin's steps crunch closer and opened his eyes.

"Do you even know why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You will live to regret this."

Then there was a quick flash of steel and the man was no more.

**- ( db ) -**

She bowed forward gracefully so that her chest was over her folded knees, and she laid her fingertips gently onto the hardwood floor, dipping so low that her forehead nearly touched the polished surface. Her long black hair, glossy and thick, slid over her shoulders to pool beside her forearms. She kept her eyelids lowered and did not look up at the men who knelt, backs upright, a few feet away. They had already been there when she and her companion had been ushered into the wide room. The two men had not offered any greeting and she had not looked them in the face as she sank into a prostrate bow. A fresh breeze wafted in from between partially open sliding doors, which were framed in dark _hinoki _wood and screened in thick rice paper. The air was crisp and clean, and smelt of upturned earth and fallen leaves. She waited, patiently holding her back straight as she bowed. Then she heard the door slide open with a sharp snap. Heavy footfalls heralded the arrival of the feudal lord and she heard his wooden seat creak as he sat.

"This is the woman?" It was the feudal lord, his voice rich and throaty.

"She comes from the North," the man who stood beside her bent form said, "And excels in all the killing arts."

There was a thoughtful pause. "She seems skinny."

"She is well-trained."

"And why have you brought her?"

"We have need of money, not warriors."

"Perhaps," the lord said, his voice cunning, "You wish not only for money, but for information as well. Wouldn't it have been easier to pass her off as a kitchen maid, rather than a warrior?"

"Indeed," the man replied, his answer smooth, "That would have been a better plan if we had intended to plant a spy in your midst. But, as it is, my lord," he paused to offer a small bow, "Our poor farming community has need of better animals and farm equipment. We do not care for secrets or for war."

The lord seemed to like the response because he chuckled softly, and in an instant, she decided that she disliked the sound. The chair sighed as he pushed himself out of it. Her muscles only stiffened slightly as she heard his footsteps creak closer to her. He stopped when his sandaled feet were just within her field of vision. Still, she did not raise her head.

"Let us see this skinny warrior."

The man who had brought her coughed low in his throat and she took it as her cue to stand. She rose fluidly, with her eyes still turned down, and folded her small hands in front of her.

"I can hardly believe she is a skilled fighter," the lord said, his voice low and breathy, "She is so womanly." He reached out to tip her chin up with a long finger.

Reluctantly, she raised her face, her eyes lifting to his.

"Oh my," he said, dropping his hand, "Quite the little flower." He stepped back. "I have never seen eyes that color."

"Yes," the man selling her said, "Such a radiant blue."

The young feudal lord tilted his head slightly to one side, his chocolate eyes appraising her. "I wonder why you did not sell her to a brothel. You would have probably gotten a higher price."

The woman's eyes seemed to cool, and her entire expression changed as she lowered her eyelids very slightly.

"Ah," the lord said as a wry grin lifted the edges of his lips, "I see. Too much fire in her." He turned and headed to his chair. "Where did you find her? Or is she one of your own?"

"She was found unconscious at the village outskirts."

"And you are selling a complete stranger?"

"She is not one of us."

"Pitiless peasants," he said as he sat, his voice low but not harsh.

"And so, my lord?"

"Yes?"

"A price?"

"I must say that I do not fully believe you." The lord said without malice. "So I would like a demonstration." He beckoned with one hand to one of the men who knelt at his side.

"She is in kimono, sir."

He dismissed the protest with a wave. "If she is what you say she is that should not make a difference," he said, "Aoshi."

She felt the one beside her back away as the man called Aoshi stood from his kneeling position. He was dressed simply, a black _gi_ over black pants, and as he stepped forward, her first thought was that he was too tall. Then, she wondered if he would draw the twin swords that were strapped to his back or if he would only engage her in hand to hand combat. He approached slowly, his slate eyes expressionless.

Then, he was upon her and she twisted out of the path of his sheathed short sword. As he swung back to strike at her, she ducked quickly and pushed herself forward by the balls of her feet. She jabbed at his face with a quick fist, which was caught by his long fingers. She pivoted, pulling her hand free and crouching to aim an elbow to his ribs. He knocked her away and she leapt backward. But even though she turned her face to avoid his punch, it grazed the side of her face. As she skidded to a stop a few feet away, she resisted the urge to press her palm to her stinging cheek. Without hesitation she jumped forward again. But before she could even get close to him, she found herself fully occupied with deflecting his strikes, both with the sword and with his fists. She pressed in, but still found herself to far from his torso to do any real damage.

Falling back slightly, she forced herself not to frown. He was so tall and his reach so wide. Her eyes widened suddenly. Without waiting, she raced forward once again. His fist shot toward her but, instead of blocking, she pivoted to avoid it and, letting his fist extend outward and away, and turned her body into his. In the split second when her back was pressed to his chest, she jabbed her elbow into his gut and, turning swiftly, pushed her palm into his ribs with all the strength she could muster.

And yet, he did not move. Surprised, she looked up to see him staring down at her. Before she could react, she was flying backward. Tripping over the hem of her long kimono, she landed on her back, sprawled out. Aoshi, letting his arms fall to his sides, did not move from where he stood.

She heard a lone pair of hands begin to clap and she picked herself up hastily, pulling her kimono back into place. The feudal lord stood and she immediately dropped to one knee. This time, she let her lips turn down into a disappointed frown. She had not been strong enough to prove herself.

"Well done."

She looked up in surprise. The lord stepped forward, his hands stilling.

He turned to the man who had brought her. "She is not as strong as my best, but," he said with a slight shrug, "if she were, that alone would give me cause to consider you suspicious." He strode toward the woman and she dropped her head in a hasty bow. "I will give you thirty gold _ryo_. She is, after all, even better than the female fighters I have now. None of them are even capable of landing strikes on Aoshi. Perhaps we will find a use for her."

The woman dipped into a deeper bow.

"What is your name?"

She opened her mouth but her companion's voice cut in.

"Her name is Kaoru."

"Kaoru," he repeated. The lord turned and beckoned to the man. "Your name?"

"Kyoshiro"

"Come, Kyoshiro."

The man came and knelt beside the woman, his bowed head level with hers. A worn leather bag dropped heavily onto the floor between them, the coins clinking against each other.

"Take your money and feed your village."

The man gathered the pouch to himself and tensed, preparing to stand. For a fleeting moment, he turned to look at the woman's profile. She met his gaze from the corner of her eye, her expression softening. With a faint smile, she nodded just enough for him to see. Their eyes lingered on each other for barely a moment and then, with a rush of air, he stood and spun on his heel, leaving her behind. When his footsteps faded, she stood, head bowed.

"Look up," her new master said.

She met his gaze, squaring her shoulders and straightening.

"Well, Kaoru," the lord said with a dry chuckle that made her stomach clench, "We may have a use for you after all." He turned his face to the side, yet kept his eyes on her. "Aoshi, please have her settle in."

Kaoru bowed, her back stiff, as the lord turned away. The man she had just fought with stepped up to her bent form and offered a dignified bow of his own. He straightened.

"Follow me," he said, turning and walking toward one of the sliding panels.

Kaoru straightened and followed him across the room silently. They paused as he stopped briefly to slide the door open. Then, they walked out onto the wooden patio that wound around the outer walls of the entire manor. Kaoru followed, one step behind the tall man, as they paced briskly across the glistening wooden boards, under the cool shade of the roof's gently sloping overhang. The minor lord lived in a luxurious, magnificent estate. Surrounded by perfectly manicured gardens, the houses forming the elegant complex sat atop raised wooden platforms and were all sided by moving panels screened with thick white rice paper. The main house, which they were now leaving, was connected by small wooden bridges or stone paths to an innumerable series of other smaller buildings. Kaoru stepped down from the patio onto the finely crushed, white gravel on the ground surrounding the main house as Aoshi led her across a path made from flat, irregularly shaped stepping stones, flanked by low, vibrantly green bushes and punctuated by dark, twisting trees. They drew farther and farther away, crossing a small, arching bridge over a pond inhabited by large goldfish and water lilies.

Gradually, the aesthetic touches diminished as they continued to walk past the many buildings, until a narrow stone path ended in a gravel courtyard. Aoshi stopped at its edge. He spoke.

"This is where you will live. And that is the dojo."

He started to walk again, and Kaoru could only assume that he had been referring to the only two structures that stood at the centre of the large courtyard. Though they were as elegantly constructed as the other houses in the splendid complex, these were decidedly built for function rather than for beauty. From the dojo, which they passed on their way into the residence, Kaoru could hear the sounds of sparring; grunts and clashes of steel and wood. And then, they stepped up onto the roughly varnished patio of her new home.

Before entering the dark shade of the house's hardwood hall, both Aoshi and Kaoru left their sandals on the sunken square that served as a foyer. Their socked feet barely made a sound on the shining hardwood floor as they padded down the hall. On either side were rows of rooms, with sliding doors closing them off from the hall. Aoshi stopped near the end of the long passage.

"You will stay here." Laying the tips of his long fingers on the wooden frame, he pulled the panel door open with a sharp snap. "Food is served in the main room at the front at daybreak, noon and dusk. We begin training after breakfast. You will also be assigned various duties from time to time."

Kaoru nodded and dipped into a polite bow.

"You will find suitable clothing in your room."

She bent over again into a bow as Aoshi stepped away from the entrance to her new room and padded silently down the hallway. As soon as she could no longer hear his faint footsteps, Kaoru lifted herself and stepped into the room, sliding the door closed behind her. With a slight sigh, she paused to let her shoulders drop and her shoulders sink. The room was dim since the rice paper screens leading to the patio were shut, letting only the barest tints of yellow sunlight dance across the floor, which was covered in the light rattan of _tatami_ mats. The room was completely bare, except for a raised platform at one end, upon which rested a three tier rack for swords, a long wooden chest and a folded futon. Kaoru walked across the room and pulled the paper-screened door open, letting the warm light and crisp autumn air flood her new room. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun on her face and the sounds of earnest physical training in the distance. A slight smile gracing her thin lips, Kaoru tugged at her _obi_ and let it fall to the floor. Within moments, the stiff fabric of her outer _kimono_ followed the _obi_, the heavy silk rustling as it slid to the floor. Clad only in the light cloth of the white under-_kimono_, Kaoru suddenly felt weightless and her thin smile widened. She stood on tiptoes and stretched her arms out as far as she could, her palms outstretched. Her lips spreading into a silent laugh, she spun around on her toes.

Her body hidden by the orange and yellow leaves of a nearby tree, a young girl's keen green eyes watched as the new woman danced away from the open _shoji _and back across the small apartment.

"What do you think?" She asked her companion, who was also comfortably perched in the limbs of the tall tree.

They watched as the young woman pulled a training outfit from the wooden trunk and hugged it happily to her chest. She held out the simple garment, studying the dark blue cloth and completely ignoring the fine silk that lay discarded near the patio.

"She seems a little stupid to me."

"She's obviously excited." The petite girl leaned forward, squinting.

"What's to be excited about?" He said snappishly, "It's just a uniform."

"Some people," the girl said, tossing her long braid over one shoulder, "Are proud to be part of the Oniwabanshu."

"Oh please," the boy said, rolling his eyes, "You're hardly even part of the Oniwanbanshu yourself, you weasel girl."

"At least I have already gone on missions." She turned to glare at the boy. "You've never even left the dojo since you got here."

"Why you-"

His angry fingers caught empty air as the small girl launched herself from the concealing tree branches, landing in a catlike crouch on the ground below. She stood and looked up, straightening her very short, deep blue kimono.

"You'll have to be faster than that, you little brat," she said with a grin. "I'm going to report to Aoshi."

"Report what?" He said, shifting so that he could glare at her, "That she likes her new clothes?"

"Now, now," she said, wagging a finger. "I know you're just jealous." Just before dashing away, she turned to cast a sly glance up into the leaves. "Now, I know that you've been wanting to see what a woman looks like underneath her clothes, but don't stay and peep. That's a crime."

The boy's face suddenly flushed red. "Who'd want to do that?" He called hoarsely to her disappearing form, desperately trying to keep his voice down so as not to be discovered, "She's an ugly old hag, anyway!"

There was a sudden crunch of gravel beneath him and he looked down, his stomach dropping into his toes. Through the gently swaying leaves, he saw the upturned face of woman in question frowning up at him. She was already fully dressed in their clan colors. Her thin arms, which were bare, were crossed over her chest. He swallowed nervously.

"That is, uh…"

She waited, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, I…"

He swallowed again. Scrambling across the irregular branches, he jumped from the opposite side of the tree and took off across the courtyard at a run. Kaoru watched him go with a wry smile. She uncrossed her arms and pulled at the bottom hem of the short uniform. The deep blue cloth, edged in white, was wrapped tightly around her body and folded over her chest, a wide black sash around her waist tightly securing it in place. She bent slightly to pull up the knee-high black stockings. Although she could move with ease in the supple cloth, it was sleeveless and hugged her hips.

Suddenly, she whirled about and dropped to one knee. The feudal lord who had just bought her stood on her deck, Aoshi a step behind him.

"Very quick, indeed." The lord chuckled. "The Oniwabanshu colors suit you, Kaoru." He stepped down into the courtyard. "You will begin training with my ninjas immediately."

Kaoru's head dipped lower in acknowledgement. The lord studied her kneeling form carefully. All he could see of her face was the very crown of her pale forehead. Though hunched over one bent knee, she still projected an image of graceful poise. Perhaps, he thought as he regarded her silently, it was the way she allowed just the very tip of her middle finger touch the gravel or the elegant arch of her neck as she bowed or the lustrous black sweep of hair which fell from her high pony-tail.

"Stand."

She unfolded herself and rose liquidly, as a dancer might. But when she lifted her head, her eyes stopped at the collar of his kimono and did not lift to his face.

"Have you been to the dojo?" He asked.

She shook her head.

"Well," he said, stepping past her toward the training hall, "We must acquaint you with it." He strode forward, his gait confident, and continued to speak to her. "Aoshi believes that you will be able to attain a sufficient mastery of his techniques in a relatively short amount of time." He looked briefly over his shoulder to see her following a few paces behind them. "I hope that he is right."

Just before she passed through the threshold of the dojo, Kaoru paused and drew her feet together. Her blue eyes lifted to take in the sight of the gleaming hardwood and the sparring warriors. And then, setting her face determinedly, she followed the lord and her new leader.

**- ( db ) -**

Night had fallen and the moonlight cast the swaying shadows of the trees on the white stones of the courtyard. All was silent, except for the quiet crunch of the pacing steps of the sentries patrolling the grounds. The guards passed in circulating rounds, crossing each others' paths every ten minutes. Kaoru chose the moment when two sentries paused to exchange a few brief words to silently jump the wall and slip from the manor. She slowed as she neared a tall, weathered cherry tree. From behind the shadowed trunk, a silhouette emerged.

"Kaoru." Kyoshiro spoke softly.

She stopped and offered him a brief nod.

"Are you being treated well?"

She smiled and nodded, stepping closer.

"This is the last time I will be able to help you," Kyoshiro said, hesitantly handing her a package carefully wrapped in cloth, "Keep it hidden. Keep it safe."

Kaoru nodded and accepted the parcel with both hands, carefully tucking it in the folds of her obi, smoothing the material with her fingers. She stilled as Kyoshiro's hands found hers.

"Be safe," he said, a slight tremor running through his fingers and into hers.

She dipped her head once in assent and squeezed his hands. Then, she brushed his fingers from hers and turned, disappearing into the night.

**- ( db ) -**

Misao nearly bounced as she skipped to keep up with Aoshi's long strides as he paced the length of the training hall, supervising the groups of sparring ninjas and lesser samurai. Another man was walking beside the ninjas' leader, his steps quick and catlike. He wore a blue gi and black hakama and his red hair was tightly tied in a pony-tail. His honey-colored eyes scanned the crowd critically as they walked.

"There are so many new ones," Misao chirped happily, craning her neck to look at the man on the other side of Aoshi, "But most of them aren't much good yet."

"So it would seem," the man said, his voice quiet. Suddenly, he stopped.

Misao spun on her toes, her gaze searching for whatever his eyes had found. Aoshi calmly stepped back, so that he observed the sparring while shoulder to shoulder with the man.

"What is it, Himura?" Aoshi asked, his question lacking the normal inflection given to questions.

"That one." He jerked his chin toward one of their newer acquisitions.

Misao smiled slyly. "The eye of captain of the guard is always sharp," she said, "That one has only been here a week."

"I see."

"She was bought by lord Shibata for thirty gold ryo."

Himura raised a fine russet brow. He watched the woman as she sparred with her partner, Akito, who happened to be one of their more seasoned warriors. She handled her weapon deftly, her grip almost gentle as she blocked and parried. The corners of his mouth turned down. It was obvious that the woman had already figured out the pattern of Akito's defence and offence. However, she had not yet disarmed him and seemed to only be prolonging the match. She wove in and out of his attacks, but still, she did not finish it.

Shinomori Aoshi, captain of the elite ninja force, and Himura Kenshin, captain of the samurai guard, watched the newest member of their team with an analytical gaze. Kenshin's frown deepened with every moment that the fight went on. He felt Aoshi step forward.

"Akito," Aoshi said, his quiet voice carrying over the din, "Switch."

Without a hitch in the flow of their movements, the two combatants drew away from each other. Akito bowed stiffly before darting off. The woman dropped to a knee.

"Kaoru, what is the purpose of a warrior?" He asked.

The woman was silent. Kenshin's brow knit together.

"What is the purpose of fighting, if not to win or die in the effort?"

Her head bowed, she still did not respond. At his side, Aoshi heard Kenshin thumb his blade past the scabbard guard.

"Stand."

It was the only warning Kaoru had before Kenshin launched himself at her, his sword flying toward her neck. She hastened to block, and felt the reverberations of the impact shiver up her arms. She skipped backward to avoid his next swing, her eyes wide. She struck back, the hilt turning in her grip as she slashed at his legs. But he had twisted out of the way even before she'd realized it. She spun around too late and only barely saw the flash of his hand as he drove the butt end of his sword into her stomach. Kaoru flew backward and landed on her back, rolling onto her side and clutching her midsection in pain. Her mouth opened and closed, a groan painted on her face.

"Next time," Kenshin said in a voice that stirred feelings of hate in Kaoru's gut, "Put some effort into your style."

Kaoru pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked up at him, her blue eyes burning with anger. He met her irate stare with the distaste in his cold amber eyes, then turned and walked away, leaving her to bore angry holes into his back with her glare.


End file.
